Santa Claus Is Coming To Town
by Haberdashing
Summary: Transcendence AU one-shot (transcendence-au on tumblr). A little boy asks Santa for a very special Christmas wish.


In a puff of white smoke and snowflakes, Santa appeared in front of the little boy.

And there was no mistaking it- this was Santa, really Santa, in the flesh. He had rosy cheeks, a substantial gut, a long white beard, and bright red clothing, and he even held a large bag presumably filled with presents. All that was missing was his sleigh and team of reindeer- but, then again, those probably couldn't fit inside the boy's room, let alone in the summoning circle that he had drawn.

It had worked.

"Ho ho ho!"

The boy's eyes grew wide. "Santa? Is it really you?"

"Of course it is, my boy! And you must have a very special Christmas gift in mind for this year, is that right?"

The boy nodded, standing up tall, though he was still several feet taller than the chubby figure in front of him. "Mommy and Daddy have been fighting a lot, and it's kind of scary, and I don't like it at all, and I just… all that I really want for Christmas is for them to… Santa, I don't want them to fight on Christmas! Please, I want them to stop arguing, even if it's just for Christmas Day!"

He'd told himself to be strong, to show Santa how brave and serious he was, but he couldn't hold back his tears, and soon they formed a wide stream down his face, making his vision blurry and his nose red.

"Don't you worry, child. I'll make it all better for you, I promise. Now, why don't you come here and let Santa give you a big hug?"

The boy sniffled, nodded, and stepped through the bounds of the summoning circle, throwing his arms around Santa's belly. The two embraced for a long moment, the boy burying his still-wet face in Santa's soft thick fur clothes.

Santa patted him on the head, ruffling his long blonde hair. The boy removed his head from

Santa's clothes and looked up at his kindly-looking face.

"There, there. Now- what's your name, little boy?"

The boy sniffled again and wiped his eyes. "Timmy."

"Alright, Timmy. I can make sure that your parents don't fight on Christmas this year. But in return… will you be a good boy for me?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, I'll be really good from now until the end of Christmas, I won't cause any trouble or anything, I promise, and if I don't… um…"

Santa looked the boy in the eye. "If you make it onto my naughty list after all, how about I take your soul?"

Timmy took a step back. "My… my soul?"

Santa chuckled. "Don't worry, child. It's just to be really sure that you'll be a good boy. And then I can watch over you, and stop you from causing any more trouble. Do you understand?"

He didn't, not really, but the boy nodded anyway, not wanting Santa to think he was stupid or scared or not a good boy after all.

"Now, if that all sounds good to you, little Timmy, just shake my hand and we'll have a deal."

Santa gave the boy a thin smile, his eyes light and glimmering.

Timmy shook Santa's hand, and then the figure disappeared in another puff of white smoke, leaving behind only a small and quickly melting pile of pure snow.

The boy glanced at the clock, not sure how long his talk with the big man had taken. His stomach dropped as he saw that it was already after five o'clock. His parents were probably waiting for him at the dinner table- and if he waited too long to come down, maybe that'd make him a bad boy, and they wouldn't be nice to each other on Christmas after all!

"Mom! Dad! I'm coming down, don't worry!" The boy barreled down the stairs and sprinted into the kitchen, his stomach gurgling loudly as he ran. Maybe he should have waited until after dinner to meet with Santa, just to be super safe.

The table was set, with three plates set up that were almost entirely filled with food. There were an awful lot of vegetables on the boy's plate , the kind that he hated to eat but his parents always made him force down before eating dessert, a policy which itself had caused a shouting match or two in the past. Still, the room was filled with wonderful scents of all his favorite kinds of food, the smell alone enough to make little Timmy's stomach gurgle once again.

And his parents had fallen out of their chairs and were splayed out on the ground, their bodies covered in blood that was spreading all along the floor.

"…Mom? Dad?"

Little Timmy received no response.

The boy stood in place, frozen by shock, for several minutes, taking in the grimaces on his parents' face and how still they were.

Eventually, he went over to the nearest phone, picking it up as his trembling fingers began to dial. He kept hitting the wrong numbers, unable to focus on anything but what had happened to his parents, his eyes clouding over once more.

After several unsuccessful attempts, the boy heard a disapproving clucking sound behind him. He turned around, slowly, uneasily, to find…

"…Santa?"

He dropped the phone, which dangled from its received, its cord twisting with the remnants of his unsteady motion.

The fat man was shaking his head solemnly. "Oh dear, Timmy… what have you _done_?"

"I… I don't understand… what happened to Mom and Dad?"

"_You _did, my dear child. You wanted to make sure that they didn't fight… and now look what happened to them. And it's all your fault. If you hadn't made that deal, your parents would still be alive and well."

The boy started sobbing, his nose dripping with snot, the sound of his bawling filling the room. He managed to gasp out a few words in between sobs. "But… I didn't want… I thought… I just… Santa… Santa, why?"

Santa shook his head once more. His eyes went dark and cold, and he flashed the boy a sadistic grin, a too-wide grin that revealed a mouth filled with sharp fangs.

"And, little Timmy, it looks to me like you have been a̙̼̓̾̊͆̏͒͌ ͍͚̰̺̘̼̜v͙͒͋͐̏ͪͭ͛e͍̦͑͌̃r̩͂͆ͩ͆̔̍͡ȳ̰̳̥̄ͨ̈́͠ ̩͖͎̤͆͒͂̔̈n̪̖͉ȁ̷̠̐u̶̺͇̾g͒ͧ̎͡h̃ͪ̿҉t̯̀ͮ̽ͭͥ͂͠y͉̭͉̫͈͐ ̠̠̥̑̒̂̂b̞̠̙̼̒ͯ̋̐̈́̋ọ̟̱̻̍ͯ͂̉̒ͬy̝̱̞̹̘̲̽͌͑̀̚.̭͗̉ͫͥ̈́̔̚.̭ͮ͂͞.̀͂̍̈̌̓͒͏̠͖̣"


End file.
